Skip to content
Faultline Prefer us on Google

Anti-fascism taz

Dropout from the right-wing extremist scene: “Back then I thought we had to stick together”

First hanging out together, then Hitler salutes: Timo Groenke found a community in the right-wing extremist youth scene. Today he thinks it's terrible. more...

Deutsch (original) ·Auto-translated to English

taz: Mr. Groenke, in the summer of 2024, as a 17-year-old, you slipped into the right-wing extremist scene with its newly founded youth groups. How did this come about?

Timo Groenke: I have to start a little earlier: In high school I was bullied by students with a migration background. And because the AfD addressed exactly such problems, about the “bad foreigners” who should all be deported, I developed a right-wing opinion.

taz: But you don't immediately become a neo-Nazi.

Groenke: No, that came from a friend who I know from watching football together. One day I was out with him and then he said: “Come on, let’s meet some friends”. And then suddenly several guys stood in front of us and one of them was Julian Milz...

taz: ... the then leader of the recently founded right-wing extremist youth group Deutsche Jugend Voran (DJV). And did you know him?

Groenke: Yes. I knew the videos from the counter-demo against the CSD-Bautzen a few weeks earlier and was therefore already on the Instagram channel of the German Youth Voran, where Milz presented himself as the leader.

Timo Groenke was born in Berlin in 2007 and grew up on the eastern outskirts of the city in Marzahn. He also attended high school there, which he completed with an advanced vocational qualification. He then began a voluntary social year, which he had to end early because of his affiliation with the right-wing extremist scene. He is now completing training. Groenke publishes videos about his past and current political events on his Instagram and Tiktok channels.

In 2024, new right-wing extremist youth groups were founded nationwide. At the beginning it was primarily an internet phenomenon, but from summer onwards the scene also appeared on the streets. In August 2024, around 700 young neo-Nazis demonstrated against a CSD parade in Bautzen, and many similar protests followed. One of the most active groups, especially in Berlin, was the German Youth Voran (DJV), which sometimes had up to 50 members. Their leader Julian Milz was sentenced to more than 3 years in prison in the spring of 2025 for involvement in two violent attacks, which he only began months later. After several splits and group dissolutions, the Young Nazi scene has already passed its short zenith. Since this year, the Federal Prosecutor's Office has been investigating the DJV and the Jung & Strong because of the formation of criminal organizations.

Groenke: Milz was accompanied by members of another group associated with the DJV – Jung & Stark. A few days later they wanted to go to Leipzig for a demo and invited me. At first I didn't even know what it was about.

taz: That was also a right-wing counter-demonstration against the CSD, which was then surrounded by the police in the Leipzig train station and was not allowed to run.

Groenke: Yes, there was a lot of hustle and bustle, we got sent off for the whole city. It was a crappy feeling at first, but at the same time I was well received by people. I was able to chat well with them and they almost became friends. On the way back on the train I was added to Jung & Stark's internal WhatsApp group.

This text first appeared in wochentaz, our weekly newspaper from the left!

Every week, wochentaz is about the world as it is – and as it could be. A left-wing weekly newspaper with a voice, attitude and the special taz view of the world. New every Saturday at the kiosk and of course by subscription.

taz: You had no inhibitions about joining a right-wing extremist group?

Groenke: At the time I didn't really think that they were right-wing extremists, but that they were proud, patriotic, conservative - like me. And then I thought, yes, we can meet and network.

Groenke: In the next two weeks I saw the others from Jung & Stark almost every day, mostly outside, always with six or seven people. There was some talk about politics and it was also about showing publicly how you think, but above all they were friendly meetings: hanging out together, drinking a beer. Only once, when two of them gave a Hitler salute in public, did it actually click for me. But it hasn't.

taz: What happened after the two weeks?

Groenke: There was a conflict between Julian Milz from the DJV and a person in charge at Jung & Stark, which led to both groups splitting up. It was then that I decided to go to the DJV. They were more professional: There was no longer a WhatsApp channel, but a signal group, and the structure was more solid, with people in charge who knew what they were doing. Actually, there was mainly Julian Milz: he said something and the others jumped.

taz: How much has the group influenced your life?

Groenke: I spent four or five days a week with the group. At first it was just these typical meetings, hanging out together, doing things. Over time it became more: We went stickering together, showed the flag in the streets, went to demonstrations more and more often, to Leipzig, Magdeburg or to the neo-Nazi memorial march in Dresden and also planned demonstrations ourselves.

taz: How radicalized were you during that time?

Groenke: I increasingly adopted this right-wing extremist opinion, initially in order to belong to it. When a former member once said that it wasn't good to stand by Hitler, he was thrown out. I then started giving Hitler salutes and wished for a “pure” Germany. And while I initially went to the anti-CSD demos because of the attention, I later denied queer people's humanity.

taz: Did social media play a role in radicalization?

Groenke: Yes, that was crucial. I became AfD right-wing through Instagram and Tiktok, through the videos of Maximilian Krah, Björn Höcke and Alice Weidel. I also heard about the demo in Bautzen there. And during my time with the group, I actively used social media, i.e. uploaded Insta stories. Actually, you can say: Without social media, I would most likely never have ended up here.

taz: In October 2024 there was a major raid in Berlin and Brandenburg against members of right-wing extremist youth groups. The focus was on Julian Milz and other members of the DJV, who were accused of two violent attacks on people with Antifa paraphernalia. How surprised were you by this?

Groenke: I found out about it one morning during my voluntary social year because the friend of another affected person asked me if I could reach him - I couldn't. Then I read about the raid and the first thing I did was call my mother to ask if everything was okay. I didn't know what it was about, whether they might be investigating the formation of a criminal organization. I didn't notice anything about the robberies on the S-Bahn or in front of the bar. I only found out about it at a meeting that evening. They were very proud of their actions.

taz: What did that do to you and the group?

Groenke: At the time I thought we had to stick together. Since I didn't really have many friends in my childhood, friendship was the focus of the situation. But others have already become afraid. After the raid, the group quickly halved to about 25 members. Milz was in custody and it took a month and a half before we met again, also because the police had access to our chat.

Groenke: Yes, but only some time after the raid. Back then, I started my own media portal to distribute our content and was then outed. There was a text on a left-wing website that gave my address, and a few days later my mother woke me up and told me that there were posters with my picture with all sorts of information about me hanging in front of our door. And then I lost everything: I was kicked out of my FSJ job, had to give up my job as a soccer referee and was then kicked out by my mother.

taz: But your mother already knew that you were in the scene?

Groenke: Yes, and she didn't think it was great. At first there was a lot of discussion, but then she gave up and avoided the topic as best as she could.

taz: What has all this done to you?

Groenke: At first it was a big shock for me. But I saw myself in the role of victim without admitting my own mistakes. My feeling was that I was being punished for what I stood for. It was the others' fault. And the DJV was the catch basin for me.

taz: What did you do without an apartment, without a job?

Groenke: At first I was unemployed and lived with a friend and later with my girlfriend. After two months I got a job at McDonald’s. And that was also the beginning of the exit from ideology.

Groenke: A trans person also worked there. I kept my distance at first, but he tried to talk to me and knew who I was because I came out. At first I thought, yes, let's talk, but then I checked: Wow, he doesn't want to bother me with his queerness. I learned from him that the CSDs are not intended to persuade teenagers to become homosexual, but rather to ensure that these people get their rights.

taz: But that didn't lead to you leaving the scene?

Groenke: No, that happened some time before. Before a demonstration in Marzahn, Milz, who was at large again, called and told me to take Bengalos with me. I didn't want to do that, but he threatened me that if I didn't, he would stand in front of my door with two or three people, beat me up and throw me out of the group. On the way to the demonstration there was a verbal argument with people who gave us the middle finger. When the police then searched me, they found the pyrotechnics and arrested me. And when I came out again after several hours at the prisoner collection point, there was no one from the DJV waiting for me. Only two or three from the demo, not DJV, said: Pumba – that was my nickname back then – is out again. I just answered: Pumba no longer exists.

Groenke: Exactly. I wrote in the internal chat group that I no longer wanted to be there, also because no one picked me up from the prisoner collection point. Then I just left the group.

Groenke: There was no reaction from the group; contact only continued with the two people I was close with. But they weren't really active anymore or were just about to quit. But I stopped all contacts relatively soon.

taz: Have you been threatened because of your exit?

Groenke: Someone once wrote to my address saying that they would check if I still lived there. But luckily that was my mother's old address. And I hope nothing happens. Recently I was threatened on my bus in Marzahn. Then someone said to me: We will hunt you down.

taz: How did the exit from ideology succeed?

Groenke: I questioned myself and worked through my entire ideology. I looked at what I used to do and represent. And I can say 100 percent: I'm not like that anymore, today I despise what I used to think. At the time I claimed that no 6 million Jews were murdered in the Holocaust. But when you read about it, you realize what nonsense it was.

Groenke: This wasn't taught to me in school lessons. We covered Nazi history in one block – 90 minutes.

taz: After leaving, did you consider leaving your previous environment completely and moving away from Marzahn?

Groenke: The idea was there. But I don't want to give my Marzahn to any Nazis. And as uncomfortable as it can possibly get for me, it's just my place. I grew up there and I want to continue living there.

taz: In “their” Marzahn, the AfD won by far the most votes in the Berlin election on September 20th for the House of Representatives and the District Assembly (BVV). What did that do to you?

Groenke: It's a crappy election result. And now the CDU has also said that it wants to work with the AfD. I already thought: If that happens, I'll go to the first meeting of the BVV and shout at the whole room. Unfortunately, one has to say: the firewall no longer exists.

taz: You now post political videos on Instagram, including your personal story. How come?

Groenke: It was such a spontaneous thing, I wanted to do a bit on left-wing influencers. But I'm not a Marcant (left-wing YouTuber, editor) either. And then I had the idea to talk about my past. And the first video in which I say “My name is Timo Groenke, I’m a dropout from the right-wing extremist scene” went viral. That was mid-September. Since then I have received hundreds of messages and inquiries.

taz: What is your motivation for speaking publicly about your neo-Nazi time?

Groenke: My aim is to ensure that young people don't fall into these circles in the first place. If I keep just one person out of it, I'll be putting up with a thousand comments that insult me ​​to death.

taz: What do you tell young people so that they don't join right-wing extremist groups?

Groenke: You ruin your whole life with it. I can't get rid of my past, anyone who googles my name knows what I've done. Furthermore, the ideology is wrong. These groups try to spread hate. But it is wrong to hate because people love someone else, come from a different country or look different. We can all live peacefully together.

Groenke: I now have training and I want to finish it. I can't say what will happen politically. I would like to go to demos, but I can't blame anyone who is afraid of me or turns me away from the demo. In the end, I'm not the one who has to forgive myself, it's the people. I would like to go to Marzahn Pride next year if that's okay with the organizers.

Originally published bytaz
Read the original